


… Nor Iron Bars a Cage

by randi2204



Series: Honeymoon Trail [11]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:09:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The news is good and bad, and Chris can't help but feel a little trapped by it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	… Nor Iron Bars a Cage

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** These boys belong to MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy, not me. Woes.

Chris slept fitfully, haunted by dreams where Ella walked free, despite having killed Sarah and Adam, despite having killed Ezra.  And still she pursued him, claiming that she had done it all for _him_ , for _them_ , so they could be together…

 

He jerked awake as the door opened, trying to kick off the quilt, and reached for his gun belt where he always slung it over the bedpost.  There was nothing there.

 

“Chris?” a familiar voice called softly.  “Chris, you awake?”

 

Buck.  Chris pushed himself upright and rubbed a hand over his face.  “Yeah,” he muttered, then memory returned.  He dropped his hand at the sudden fear filling his chest, and looked up at Buck, silhouetted in the light from the hall.  “What’s wrong?  Is Ezra…”

 

He’d thought Ezra had been improving, had thought…

 

“S’what I came to tell you, stud,” and he could hear Buck’s grin in his voice.  “He woke up!  Just for a minute, but he was there.”

 

For a moment, Chris sat stunned, staring at Buck’s outline. _Ezra woke up?_ he thought.  _He woke up…_

 

Then he flung back the quilt, swung his feet out of bed and tried to push past Buck, still filling the doorway.  “Lemme by, Buck,” he ordered.

 

“Hold up, now.”  It was only when he felt the warmth of Buck’s hands on his shoulders that he realized that in his haste he hadn’t put on a shirt, and stepped back to search for it.  “He’s gone back to sleepin’ again, so you got no need to hurry down there.  Besides, now you’re up, I reckon you’ll wanna hear the rest of it.”

 

“The rest of what?” he growled, pulling on his shirt with short, jerky motions.

 

“The rest of the news I got,” Buck said.  “Went ‘round by the telegraph office a little while ago and got some more good news.  The Judge is comin’ in a couple days to help clear all this mess up, and so’re JD and Josiah.”

 

In the midst of buttoning his shirt cuffs, Chris glanced over at Buck, saw the pensive look on his face.  _Got to be bad news along with the good_ , he thought, suddenly conscious of a heavy weight in his stomach.  “What else?”

 

Buck heaved a sigh, shaking his head.  “Never could keep nothin’ from you,” he replied, his tone full of weariness and affection.  “Went by the jail, too.  The sheriff said someone’s paid her bail.”

 

Chris froze.  Slowly, he turned to stare at Buck, and opened his mouth to ask him to repeat what he’d just said, because surely that had to be wrong…

 

But the unhappy look his old friend wore was enough to convince him that, much as he wished otherwise, what he’d said was true; Ella was getting out.

 

He ached so to have his gun back that he could feel his hands trembling.  He clenched his fists, hoping that the darkness hid it from Buck’s view.  “She gets out, I’m gonna need your gun,” he said, forcing his voice steady and calm.

 

Buck scowled.  “You don’t need no such thing,” he snapped.  “If Ezra’s gonna wake up, he don’t need to hear you’re gettin’ hung for murderin’ _her_.”

 

Chris stepped close and got right in his face, matching him glare for glare.  “You gonna let me by now?”

 

Without looking away, Buck stepped back into the hallway.  Immediately, Chris pushed past him.  He dropped his gaze first, turning toward Ezra’s sickroom.

 

“If you’re gonna sit with him, I’m gonna go find Nathan and Vin,” Buck said just as Chris started to shut the door to the sickroom.

 

Chris nodded, closed the door on Buck clomping down the stairs.

 

It was bright inside, both lamps burning full.  _Don’t see how he can still be sleepin’_ , Chris thought, easing himself into the chair by the bed.  A length of cloth lay draped half in and half out of the basin, dripping onto the table.  Ezra’s eyes were closed, his breathing rough, but he was alive, and that meant Ella hadn’t won yet.

 

He was warm, too, still feverish, and Chris dunked the cloth back in the basin, laid it across Ezra’s high brow to cool him before settling in to wait.

 

_Contrary bastard,_ he thought, rubbing at his tired eyes, _of course you didn’t wake up until I wasn’t here…_  

 

Ever since that morning when he’d woken up with Ezra’s hand tangled in his hair, he’d been waiting, thinking each day would be the one that Ezra came back to them.  Each day, he had to swallow his disappointment when it didn’t happen.  Whenever Nathan chased him out of that room and later, when he snuck back in, Chris just couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it, over and over until it felt like those thoughts had worn a track in his mind.

 

_Everything’ll be better when Ezra wakes up_ , he kept thinking.  He knew it wasn’t true, didn’t half believe it himself, but… _Gotta have something._

 

Something to hold on to, something to hope for, even when it felt like he was hoping for too much.

 

He knew better than to expect Ezra to wake up again tonight; it was probably too soon, and he’d come so close to dying when Ella had shot him… but he couldn’t help this hoping.

 

It was too much to know that she’d probably be free come the morning, that if he followed his inclination, he’d be the one locked up for murder when she was the one who had all that death hanging over her head.

 

He folded his fingers around Ezra’s, just like he had every night.  “Ezra,” he said, and didn’t care that his voice was filled with gravel.  “I don’t want to have to keep tellin’ you to wake up, so it’s best if you just do it this time.”

 

There was no response, other than Ezra’s still-rasping breaths, which had eased only a little as the days passed.  Chris sank back in his chair and closed his eyes.

 

He would sit there all night if he had to, and into the next day, too.  If that’s what it took for Ezra to wake up again.

 

He felt as worn out as Nathan had called him earlier when he’d thrown him out of the sickroom.  Whatever few hours of sleep he’d stolen had helped, but not enough.   _Need more than just some sleep,_ he thought, studying Ezra’s pale face.  _Just wish I knew when I was gonna get it._

 

There were footsteps on the stairs, quick and heavy, and then coming toward the door.  _Nathan_ , Chris decided.  The footsteps stopped outside the door, then retreated again.   He was sure Nathan was itching to come in because it was just how the man was, but glad that he’d decided to leave him and Ezra alone.

 

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard Ezra let out a breath out of rhythm.  The sound of it drew Chris’s eyes to his face, just in time to see his eyelids flutter open.  He blinked, then rolled his head to the side as Chris twitched, his hand clenching on Ezra’s for a moment.

 

Chris swallowed against the relief that filled him.  “’Bout time you woke up,” he managed before his throat closed, strangling his words.  He was sure his smile looked more like a grimace, and just hoped that even now, Ezra would read between the lines of everything he couldn’t say.

 

Ezra’s mouth quirked in half a smile, familiar enough to make his chest ache, but it quickly disappeared, and his brows drew close in a frown.

 

“Chris…”

 

His name was no more than a breath of sound, and Chris wasn’t sure at first that was what it was; the hissing of the _s_ was all he heard. Ezra panted, trying to draw air, then opened his mouth again.

 

_No more strength than a kitten, and he’s tryin’ to speak_ , Chris thought, but couldn’t force himself to shush him.  He’d waited too long for this, waited until he’d thought he’d worn out hope.

 

Ezra’s lips shaped a word but no sound came out, and his brow creased.  He tried again, and Chris bent close just in time to catch the barest whisper.  “Look… awful…”

 

Chris choked back a laugh, and had to fight against the urge to touch Ezra’s cheek, to show a gentleness that he hadn’t felt in years.  Instead, he tightened his clasp around Ezra’s hand, and his heart leapt as Ezra returned the pressure, his grip weak but present.

 

It wasn’t long before Ezra’s eyes drifted shut again.  Chris let out a breath, trying not to let his disappointment show.  _He’s still recoverin’,_ he told himself.  _Ain’t gonna be givin’ discourses any time soon._   But he didn’t get up, didn’t head back to bed, just brushed his thumb over the back of Ezra’s hand.

 

He was surprised when Ezra’s hand twitched in his, looked up to see those fever-glazed eyes staring at him again.  “Miz… Gaines…”

 

_Of course he’d want to know,_ Chris thought and swallowed.   “What about her?”

 

Ezra’s brow furrowed as he fought for enough breath to speak.  “In… jail?”

 

“Yeah.” He broke away from Ezra’s gaze, down at their hands.  “Raisin’ hell because I shot her, but she’s in jail.”  For now, anyway, but he simply couldn’t say that.

 

“Didn’t,” Ezra croaked.  “Mine…”

 

He looked up, confused by those words he only just heard.  “Yours?” _What the hell does_ that _mean?_ he asked himself, and then his heart seemed to damn well stop in his chest.  “You mean… your bullet?  You’re the one shot Ella?”

 

Ezra blinked, a long slow sweep of his eyelashes that Chris couldn’t read as anything but a nod.  His mouth worked again and he grimaced at the silence of his words, before sucking in another breath.  “Almost…missed…” Exhausted by the effort, he closed his eyes again.

 

Chris knew he was still awake, though, knew from days and nights where all he’d could do was listen to Ezra breathe, and hope he kept on.

 

“Christ.”  He ran a hand over his face.  What would Ella do with this if she knew?  The way she had the law here all turned around… could be anything she damn well liked.

 

And God knew Ezra wouldn’t survive a day in jail, not like this.  Barely breathing, still feverish…

 

“Chris…”  Ezra’s eyes were mere green crescents, his voice hardly even audible.

 

“Hush,” Chris ordered softly.  He noticed a cup of water on the table near the basin, and kicked himself for not seeing it sooner.  Carefully, he lifted Ezra’s head, just enough to get some water into him.  Water spilled down Ezra’s neck as he drank and he gasped for air after each swallow.

 

When he laid him back down on the pillow, he could feel Ezra’s eyes on him, watching him as he wrung out the cloth and replaced it on Ezra’s forehead.  Ezra blinked, once, and Chris realized he was trying to stay awake.  “Go on back to sleep,” he said, taking hold of Ezra’s hand once more.  “You still got some healin’ to do.”

 

This time when Ezra’s eyes closed, they didn’t open again, but Chris was reassured by the tiny quirk of his mouth and the slight flex of fingers against his.

 

Only a moment or two later, that reassurance faded, overcome by all the news Buck had shared earlier.  Ella getting released in the morning… that was in the front of his mind.  _And morning can’t be too far away now,_ he thought, glancing toward the window.  Everything was still dark and quiet outside, but he knew that would change soon enough.

 

He hadn’t been out much since the sheriff had taken his gun; hell, the furthest he’d been in days was the bench he’d been waiting on for Buck to arrive, and he’d only gone that far because Nathan had insisted on it.  Buck and Vin and sometimes Nathan had been giving him updates on what Ella was doing.  He knew they thought he hadn’t been really listening, but he had, needing something to keep him from getting lost as Ezra swung in that limbo between life and death.

 

_Somethin’s gonna happen when she gets out,_ he thought, studying Ezra’s drawn face.  _Don’t know what… just that it won’t be good._

 

Christ, _I want a gun.  Just one bullet and I can…_

 

Then realization settled over him, and Chris nearly groaned, wishing he’d thought of it earlier, wishing he’d never had the thought at all.

 

_She’s… she’s gonna finish what she started in that hotel room._ He tightened his grasp on Ezra’s hand, and Ezra twitched.  Slowly, he relaxed again, letting his hand loosen slightly and Ezra settled as well.

 

He had no idea whether Ella was convinced that Ezra was nothing more than an obstacle or if she thought she was somehow saving Chris from Ezra’s clutches, but Chris _knew_ that she was scheming some way to kill Ezra.

 

_Over my dead body,_ he vowed, staring at Ezra’s sweat-sheened face.  _There’s no damn way she’s gonna get you, Ezra._

 

_The Judge and Josiah and JD are only a couple days out,_ he reminded himself.  _Suppose we can hold out until then... have the boys around to help protect you from_ her _, and the Judge will make sure she pays for what she’s done._   He let out a breath.  Maybe it was for the best after all that he _didn’t_ have a gun.  It wouldn’t be even half as satisfying as killing her himself, but justice would still be done.

 

But before that could happen, he needed to come up with a way to keep Ezra safe.  _Might even need to get him out of here,_ he thought.  _Before Ella finds out it was him, before she…_

 

He wouldn’t let himself think about what she might do then.

 

Ezra was deeply asleep, his hand lax in Chris’s.  The breaths he took still seemed to take too much effort, but considering all the times he’d nearly stopped the first couple of days, Chris was still glad just to hear it.  When he touched Ezra’s cheek, he seemed cooler, if only a little.

 

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand.  _If he’s gettin’ better, might be we could move him pretty soon, make sure he stays away from Ella._   He closed his eyes.  There’d be time enough to work out something in the morning.

 

The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning.  The early sun was just starting to peek past the curtains, brightening the room more than the lamps could.  Despite having slept in the chair again, he felt better rested than he had since this whole mess had started.

 

Slowly, Chris disentangled his hand from Ezra’s and stood, stretching to turn down the lamp.  Then he leaned down, gave into the desire to run his hand through Ezra’s hair, over his cheek.  _He ain’t gonna be happy,_ he thought, then pushed it away.  _Nothing to do now but do it._

 

Nathan was waiting outside the sickroom, holding a cup full of steaming liquid, and met his nod with one of his own.  “Gonna see if I can get somethin’ into him,” he said, then jerked his head in the direction of the stairs.  “Buck an’ Vin wanna talk to you.”  He looked like a man who’d gotten his first full night’s sleep in a while.

 

Chris inclined his head again as he stepped past Nathan and headed downstairs.  Time to pull things together.

 

Buck and Vin were in the parlor, Buck standing by one of the windows, twitching the curtains aside to peer out, while Vin sprawled on the settee, legs stretched and crossed at the ankles.  They both glanced at him as he entered, then Buck let out a _whoosh_ of air, while Vin smiled a tiny brittle smile.

 

Chris wasn’t sure that he actually smiled, but he was at last sure enough that Ezra would _live_ that he could try.  Even that small attempt faded quickly, however, when he recalled everything else that was going on.  “Any word?” he asked quietly.

 

Buck and Vin exchanged a look.  “Not much more than last night,” Buck said.  “Still be a few days before JD and Josiah get here, and about the same for Judge Travis.”

 

“She got out at first light.”  Vin dropped that into the silence following Buck’s words, and Chris felt his gut tighten, that same blend of anticipation and fear that always coursed through him before a gun fight.  “I came back here soon as I saw her walk out of the jail, so we’d be ready for whatever she’s doin’ next.”

 

“You got any guesses what that’ll be, pard?” Buck leaned back to sneak another look outside.

 

Chris shook his head.  “I wish I knew.  Be easier to come up with somethin’ to catch her.”

 

“Reckon she’s only got one thing in mind right now,” Vin said, and pushed himself upright.

 

Chris scrubbed his hands through his hair.  He didn’t want a damn thing to do with Ella and her twisted love for him.  He just wanted her to pay for what she’d done, what she’d _almost_ done.

 

Over by the window, Buck stiffened.  “Think I know what her move is.  Chris, get upstairs.  Vin – ”

 

“What are you talkin’ about?” Chris strode over to Buck, shouldered him aside to follow his gaze out the window.

 

The sheriff was walking up the street, with a deputy behind him.  While the deputy looked nervous, the sheriff’s face was set, determined, and his hand rested on the butt of his gun.

 

“Chris, go on upstairs,” Buck ordered again.  “Me and Vin’ll handle this.”

 

It all came together in that instant – that _this_ was Ella’s plan, _this_ was how she was going to get to Ezra.  She would get _him_ out of the way, hoping that everyone would follow along after just to get him out of jail… leaving Ezra all alone and helpless.

 

But if Buck and Vin opened fire now, there would be hell to pay; the sheriff was just doing his job, what he thought – or had been told – was necessary.  As Buck tried to pull his gun, Chris grabbed hold of his hand, then tightened his grasp when Buck tried to get free.  “Stop.  Don’t be a fool, Buck.”

 

“Chris, she’s convinced the sheriff that you’re to blame!”

 

“Chris…”

 

“No,” he replied firmly to Vin’s unspoken words, to Buck’s protest.  “If they’re comin’ to take me to jail, let ‘em.  Don’t need you all gettin’ taken in along with me.”

 

Just then, a knock sounded, a no-nonsense rap on the front door that could only be the sheriff.  Chris stepped from the parlor.

 

“Chris!” Buck called after him, voice strained.  Chris turned to look at him, standing in the doorway to the hall.

 

Vin would be at his back, he knew it in that way he’d known Vin from the first.  So he turned to Buck, gave him a steady look, trying to tell him what he needed without saying a word.

 

And Buck understood.  He sighed softly, broke away from Chris’s gaze, then nodded reluctantly.

 

Chris relaxed.  _I know he’d rather have my back, same as Vin,_ he thought, _but I need him to do this._   The most important part settled, he opened the door, waving off Mrs. Murphy, who’d appeared from the kitchen.

 

“Mister Larabee?” The sheriff stood on the front steps, the deputy behind him shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.  “I’d be obliged if you came down to the jail without fuss.”

 

Chris just _looked_ at him, but the man had met other gunmen before, and if Chris’s stare rattled him any, he didn’t let on. “Fine,” he said.  “I’d like to retrieve my coat first.”

 

The sheriff frowned.  “Make it quick.”

 

Of course, the real reason he wanted to go upstairs was to stop in Ezra’s sickroom, just for a moment.  Nathan straightened away from all his things on the side table, and his eyes widened when he noticed the coat slung over his arm.  “Chris? What’re you…”

 

Chris ignored him and bent over Ezra, still asleep, breath wheezing. He had no idea what he meant to say – _not that Ezra will hear it anyway_ , he thought – so he cupped Ezra’s heated cheek, stroked his thumb lightly over his cracked lips.  “Don’t let her win,” was all he could say.  Then, before he could give in to the need to stay, he spun away, pulling on his coat and paying no attention to Nathan calling his name behind him as he retreated down the stairs.

 

“All right,” he said to the sheriff.  “I’m ready.”

 

The sheriff motioned to his deputy – as broad as Josiah, if not as tall – and the man stepped forward to take hold of Chris’s arm.  His grip was loose, but the intent wasn’t lost on Chris; he was being led to the jail regardless.

 

Chris resisted the urge to look behind him as they started off down the street.  He knew Vin was following, knew Buck stood on the front step of the boarding house, watching as he was led away.

 

_Woke up in jail plenty of times,_ Chris reminded himself.  _Only difference now is I’m able to get there my own self._

 

As they turned the corner onto the street where the jail stood, Chris became aware of a strange sensation, one that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

 

He was being watched; the sensation of eyes raking over him was too strong to be ignored.  Then he turned his head and saw Ella staring at him, her face composed, even a little sad, but there was a definite _hunger_ in her eyes.

 

Without even thinking about it, he jerked against the grip on his arm, trying to get away, to get his hand on a gun and _end this_.  Behind him, Vin muttered under his breath, and dimly, Chris knew that he’d seen her, too.

 

The deputy’s hand tightened around his arm and the sheriff took hold of him as well, cursing under his breath.  “Mister Larabee…”

 

That reminded him of what was going on, how she’d manipulated the situation to get things going her way, and he stopped struggling.  “Sheriff,” he said, pitching his voice to carry so she’d be sure to hear.  “You keep her the hell away from me, or I ain’t gonna be responsible.”

 

The sheriff followed the direction of his gaze, and his mouth turned down at the corners.  Then he was hustled away from Ella, though he glared at her over his shoulder until they reached the jail.

 

_I’ll strangle you through the bars if I have to, Ella,_ he thought, and let the sheriff lead him into the iron-barred cell. 

 

***

November 19, 2012

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [JoJo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/pseuds/JoJo), and the square for "imprisonment" on my [Mag7 bingo card](http://randi2204.dreamwidth.org/64778.html).


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